


every time we touch

by Smudge



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Adult Bughead, F/M, Some Pre-Canon, baby bughead - Freeform, basically is it bughead?, in this place goes the drabbles, just little bughead bites, listen it is a bughead fest up in here, no connection between chapters, really random stuff, some smut, some sweet stuff, then it might go here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2019-12-25 14:22:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18263126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smudge/pseuds/Smudge
Summary: Bughead drabbles, friends





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In here goes the shorties, y'all. Not long enough to be a one shot, not short enough to get lost on tumblr, imma put them here for your enjoyment, friends. So, you know, enjoy them, dammit.

It starts when they’re five. 

Archie Andrews invites Jughead Jones to play in his treehouse one day after school and when Mary Andrews offers to drive Jughead home after dinner and a tired FP agrees, the first bond of friendship is formed. 

When he meets a pretty little girl with blonde curls and green eyes, he sets his own fate in motion. 

He can’t stop looking at her. Her pink ruffles, the lace on her socks, the ribbon in her hair. Her sweet smile and how she’s so clean. There’s dirt smudged on his nose and his hand, his hat sits crooked and his shoelaces keep coming untied so he stuffs them into the sides of his shoes until Betty sings him a song and teaches him how her big sister, Polly, taught her. 

When he’s sixteen he’ll think of her every morning when he ties up his boots. 

Betty Cooper is her name and she offers him the best seat in the treehouse, saying guests should always be the most comfortable. When he asks if she’s a guest, she shrugs and tells him Archie almost didn’t even let her in the treehouse because she’s a girl and he tells Archie that Betty should always be allowed in the treehouse. 

Archie shrugs, a passive agreement that makes Betty smile widely and scoot a little closer to Jughead on the blanket that Mary had put in there for them to sit on. 

Pulling a bag out of a pocket in her dress he didn’t even realize she had, she hands him a cookie, a quiet thank you falling from her lips as she looks down, breaking the only other cookie in half, giving Archie half of what should probably be completely hers. 

Trying to hand her the cookie back, she shakes her head, telling him to eat it, she wants him to have it. 

When he’s seventeen, she’ll bring him cookies when he’s studying for the SATs and he’ll remember a little girl with a big smile thanking him for making sure she always had Archie’s treehouse to escape to. Something he learns she did often over the years. 

When he’s eighteen he finds her up there after a fight they’d had, a big one. After he realizes what it means to be broken up with Betty Cooper he chases her, looking at Pop’s first, then the Andrews garage and finally, the treehouse. 

Hugging her knees, her sobs are loud in the little space. Echoing off the old wooden walls as she gasps for air, not even realizing he’s there until he’s wrapping his arms around her, whispering that he’s sorry and he didn’t mean it, he loves her and he’ll never do it again. 

That he just had the worst forty-five minutes of his life and he never wants to feel that way again. Laughing through her tears she calls him dramatic, wiping the wetness off his cheeks as he thumbs away the mascara streaks from under her eyes. She wants to know why he’s determined to push her away, why won’t he believe that no matter what he thinks, their love is the sort of love that buries itself deep in your bones. There’s no escape, she insists, laying her head on his shoulder. 

Telling her that sounds morbid gets him a shrug, like she doesn’t care that their love is the sort of love that kills you both before it lets you go. 

He knew that. 

He’s always known that. 

He just thought it would kill him alone. 

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulls her in tighter, kissing the top of her head, apologizing again for being so stupid and promising to stop assuming to know what she wants if she promises to never kill him in his sleep after he annoys her. 

That’s not a promise she can keep, she says to him with mischief in her eyes as she looks up at him. 

At fourteen they almost play spin the bottle in the Andrews garage, just the three of them. Fred comes home before they get very far, stopped in the middle of the argument that Archie doesn’t want to have to kiss Jughead, that that would be terrible practice for when he kisses Midge on their date that weekend. 

Jughead rolls his eyes, informing him that Midge is only trying to make Moose jealous and there’s no way she’s going to let him kiss her, nudging Betty with his arm, the sad look on her face being replaced with a small smile. 

They end up in the treehouse, away from Fred and Mary’s observant eyes, idly spinning a bottle around in a circle as Archie says he should practice kissing with Jughead suggesting he should use his hand, Betty laughing at the double entendre while Archie scowls at him, telling him it’s gonna be his fault when Midge lets the whole school know that he’s a bad kisser. 

Betty and Jughead are both avoiding going home long after Archie leaves, sitting side by side on the floor of the treehouse when Jughead asks if she’s ever wanted to practice kissing. Shrugging, Betty plays with the end of her ponytail saying that she thinks kissing should mean something. He agrees with her, relaxing against the wall, talking about a movie they should watch that weekend. 

At fifteen, he’ll think of that conversation as he climbs the ladder to Betty’s room, knowing that if he can do what he plans to do, it’s going to mean something. 

It’s going to mean everything.

 

 


	2. burn with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again, a little post arson smutty fun time for y'all.

“You taste like how I think fire would feel,” he says, pulling her towards him, pushing her own jacket to the floorboards along with his. 

“Is that right?” she asks, crawling over him as he nods at her. “And what’s that like?” 

“Like the very heat of you might make everything clean again.” 

“Not worried I might burn you?” 

“Oh, I’m hoping you do.” 

Settling her into his lap, he pushes his hands under the hem of her sweater, running his fingers along her waist as she pushes his hat off of his head, letting it fall on the seat beside them. 

“You have soot on your face,” he whispers, amused. “Does that mean I can call you my dirty girl?” 

Raising an eyebrow at him, her hands stop on the sides of his neck. “You’re dirty too, can I make a joke about that?” 

“Any time you want,” he starts, slipping his thumbs under the edge of the waistband of her jeans. “You can always assume I’m dirty for you.” 

“That had to have sounded better in your head,” she says, laughing. 

“It usually does,” he admits, pulling her closer and pushing his hips up into her thighs. 

“Are you trying to distract me?” 

“Always,” he murmurs, helping her roll her hips down onto him. 

Pushing her shirt up, he helps her tug it off before throwing it on the growing pile of clothes on the floor of the Cooper car. Staring at awe in as the fire behind her makes her glow, he threads his hands through her hair, bringing her down to meet him in a kiss. Feeling her hands move under his shirt, he lets her go to take it off, leaning forward into her as it comes up and over his head. 

She takes it from him with a sly smile, dropping it on top of hers. “I don’t think we need this, do we?” 

“Are you objectifying me, Cooper?” he asks, smug. Watching as her eyes trail down his torso, biting her lip as her gaze rests on the button of his jeans. 

“Always,” she informs him as her fingers move down his rib cage, teasing him with what he knows is coming. 

Popping the button one handed, a practiced move he’s abundantly proud of her for knowing, she slowly moves the zipper down, reaching for him as he grabs her wrist, stopping her. Looking at him, confused, she waits for him to speak. 

“Hey,” he says, bringing her hand up, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles, “I love you.” 

Smiling softly, she leans down, kissing him as she wraps her arms around his neck. “I love you too.” 

Hands on her back, he moves them until she’s on her back along the bench seat. He hits his back on the steering wheel, making him wince as she giggles at the face he makes. 

“This might be awkward,” he tells her, trying to fit between her thighs without falling between the wheel and the floorboards, pulling the condom he’s learned to keep in his wallet out, setting it on the dashboard. 

“We’ve had it worse,” she reminds him, pushing his hair out of his face as she looks up at him. 

“True.” 

He’s laying himself over her, pressing soft kisses along her collarbone, her right leg wrapped around his hip tightly, holding him in place even as he tries to undo the buttons of her jeans. Almost slipping off the seat again, he laughs into her neck. 

“Let’s try something else,” she says, pushing him up. Moving until he’s sitting in the middle of the bench seat, she’s pulling his jeans down around his hips until they’re mid-thigh, stroking him softly as she kisses him, nipping at his earlobe. 

“I feel like we’ve been here before,” he jokes, tugging at the button of her jeans, gripping the denim and lace of her panties with both hands as he pushes it over her hips, watching her wiggle until increasing interest until her jeans were caught around her ankles. “Is that gonna work?” 

She stares at him with determination. “We’ll make it work.” 

“Come here,” he murmurs, helping her straddle him, the skin on skin contact making his breath catch as he feels how hot her skin is against his. “Do you know how good you feel?” 

“Probably as good as you do,” she whispers, reaching for the condom behind her. Ripping it open, she’s quicker than he thinks, rolling it down and settling herself over him, sliding down before he’s even aware of what’s happening. 

“Jesus, Betty,” he groans, her warmth seeping through as she rests her head against his shoulder. 

“I couldn’t wait,” she says into his skin, peppering kisses up his neck as she starts to move, undulating her hips with the little room she’s given herself, the cramped space and restricted movement of her legs making her back arch. Her hands are locked behind his neck, holding on as his are on her hips, keeping her steady as he pushes up into her, her breath heavy and hot in his ear. 

The lacy fabric of her bra against his chest along with the smooth friction of her walls as she bounces has him entranced before he remembers himself, pushing a hand between them so he can rub the small and soothing circles against her clit the way he knows she likes. 

“Oh -oh, yes,” Betty stutters out when he hits the right rhythm.

Her fingers tighten into the back of his neck, catching part of his hair and pulling, making him moan, tilting his head back, giving her better access to his neck, the gentle biting as she tries to quiet a moan making him thrust harder into her. 

“No,” he says, his free hand flexing into the soft skin of her hip, “let me hear you.” 

Her answering moan sends his eyes rolling back as it’s accompanied by her moving faster, her hips rolling in deeper motions as he works his thumb over her, the clenching of her walls pushing him to his edge as her body starts to shake, thighs trembling around him as she groans his name into his ear. 

The whispered _ Oh fuck _ he lets out as he comes is lost in the sound of her panting and the loud burning of the cracking wood outside of the car. 

She leans back, smiling at him with glazed eyes. “Are you okay?” 

He looks behind her, taking in the childhood he’s chosen to burn down, the last year showing him how important it is to remember where you come from but also remember that home is a feeling, not a place. And when he’s with Betty, he’s never not felt at home. 

Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, he smiles back at her. “How could I not be? You’re here with me.” 

 

 


	3. bittersweet symphony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an unedited drabble on this fine Riverdale day, friends!

It’s a weird thing, Archie thought, being in love with the girl who used to love him but now loved somebody else. All while pretending to date her so she can secretly date her gang leader boyfriend who used to be his best friend.

 _Betty’s best friend, too,_ he reminded himself, getting ready to knock on the Cooper’s door, flowers in hand.

“Archibald,” Alice Cooper said with a smile, a wave of her hand inviting him in. “Elizabeth will be down in a minute.”

“Thanks, Mrs Cooper,” Archie answered, handing her the flowers. “These are for you.”

“So sweet, Archibald.” Alice smiled, bringing them to her face as she inhaled their scent. “Let me put these in some water.”

Left alone in the Cooper’s living room, he took a deep breath and wondered if Betty brought her boyfriend when her parents were gone, sneaking him up into her room. The room he could see from his own.

A sigh of regret slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. He knew he let Jughead down when he’d been forced by the school district to transfer to Southside High. The distance was less than an hour of walking time but he may as well have acted like it was a three hour drive.

Betty had protested. She’d fought the Principal. Then the Mayor. Then she wrote letters, tried to get Jughead into some of the school’s programs that could keep him at Riverdale High. Archie wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Betty lose at something before.

She’d handled Jughead’s leaving badly for awhile after the fact.

He wished he could say he knew if Jughead handled it badly as well. He knew he must have though. Within six months, he was in the Serpents, the gang that ran the Southside. A legacy, Betty had told him with worried eyes.

Jughead hadn’t had a choice, she’d said. You should call him, Arch, she’d kept insisting. That he missed him even if he pretended it didn’t matter.

How often did she see him he wondered. Asking her proved harder than he thought as he saw a flash of judgement in her eyes. Something he never thought he’d see in Betty’s eyes.

All the time, she had hissed. The pain he felt at her anger surprised him. He knew he wasn’t the friend Jughead needed, unsure what, exactly, had kept him away from reaching out.

It’s not like he comes over anymore, Archie had weakly defended to her, wilting in the presence of her crossed arms and raised eyebrow.

A pathetic excuse, he knew.

By their senior year, he was leading the Serpents, Betty informed him primly one day at Pop’s, her vanilla milkshake still full in front of her. Archie tried to convince her to stop seeing Jughead, their friend had obviously followed in his father’s footsteps. That it was too dangerous for her to go to the Southside if he was leading a gang in high school.

Betty had just smiled at him. Like she knew something he didn’t as she told him she’d be plenty safe in the presence of the leader of the Serpents and he needn’t worry about her.

It wasn’t until November when Betty cornered him at school, asking him to pretend to be his date to the Cooper Family Thanksgiving. That her mom kept hinting she had boys she wanted Betty to meet, a good strategy for college connections, Kevin whispered to him as she’d looked up at him with big green eyes.

Had she turned those eyes on Jughead over the years, he’d wondered, knowing if she had that’s probably why Jughead had never been able to say no to her. It took less than a minute for him to cave, agreeing to be her dinner date, as long as his dad was also welcome.

Her bright smile, the little bounce she did on her toes distracted him, causing him to notice something about Betty that he’d never paid much attention to before.

Betty Cooper was all grown up.

Kevin smirked at him as he blushed, Betty hugging him before wandering off down the hall, already glued to her phone, the way she had been since Jughead left Riverdale High.

It wasn’t until he’d been what Kevin called her “beard” all through the holidays that he figured out what had been going on and why she insisted they continue pretending to date for her parents.

He’d been bored one Friday night, picking at the strings of his guitar as he saw the shadow of someone sneaking up the tree to his old treehouse. Grabbing the bat he’d had since he was in Little League, he snuck out of back door and tried to stay quiet as he made his way up old wooden steps still haphazardly nailed to the trunk of the old oak tree.

Too big for the doorway, he’d been kneeling, trying to be quiet and catch them by surprise as he heard a feminine laugh and the rustle of clothing. Confused, he’d peeked through the window and almost fell of the tiny porch that had always seemed so much bigger in his youth.

The sight of a Serpent jacket and gray woolen beanie in a growing pile of clothes elicited a barely audible gasp out of him. Leaning against the side of the treehouse he could hear the murmurs of the pair inside, shock still racing through his veins.

Words floated through the quiet night air, still cold even as the snow melted in the daylight. Things like _I miss you_ and _you’re driving me crazy_ , _touch me there, do you like that_ ? The soft whimpered murmurs of _please_ and _yes_ and _just like that_ . The stifled gasps of _Betty_ and _fuck_ and _that’s it, baby, come for me._

Horrified by his inability to leave, he watched his childhood best friends in fascination as they lost themselves in each other’s bodies. He hated himself in that moment, the desire he felt for Betty and the intense rush of jealousy over Jughead being the one who got to fuck their best friend until her legs shook, until her back arched, until she came with a moan and her fingers bit into Jughead’s shoulder blades.

Were they _together_?

Was fucking all it was?

He’d made the choice to climb back down the tree when he heard the sharp slap of skin on skin as Jughead’s movements sped up, the harsh panting as Betty encouraged him to come in her, to let her have all of him. He could see Jughead bite down on Betty’s shoulder as he came, hips jerking as Betty’s thighs cradled him between her legs.

Archie took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself, the need to get away from what he just saw taking prevalence over the idea that they might hear or see him as tried to leave. He slipped away as silently as he could, almost jogging back to his house and up the stairs as he threw himself on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Jughead and Betty.

It seemed almost impossible to him at first but as he thought back through the years, he thought it might make sense. How Jughead always chose to play Betty’s version of any game they were playing. How Betty defended Jughead on the playground.

When Betty shared her food when Jughead didn’t have a lunch. The time she forged his mom’s signature and slipped him the ten dollars needed to go on their eighth grade field trip.

Jughead showing up to their junior prom in his Serpent jacket, a single pink rose he tucked behind her ear, making her laugh as she wiped the smudge of...something off the bridge of his nose. He’d been playing with the Pussycats so he hadn’t seen much, just that she and Jughead had danced for a little while before disappearing for the rest of the night.

Kevin had told him Jughead needed Betty for something and he hadn’t questioned it further. It wasn’t unlike Betty to stop everything when someone needed her. And Jughead had often been her date to dances when no one else had invited her.

He felt bad, laying on his bed in his silent room, that he never even asked her if she had plans for prom, he just went on and on about performing with Josie, his almost girlfriend of the moment. Not that it lasted past the end of the year, Josie moved on saying she felt like she needed one last summer fling before she had to buckle down and focus on their senior year.

It didn’t matter what he’d seen, he knew. He’d still be in love with Betty tomorrow. And the day after. Never expecting it when he turned her down in the beginning of sophomore year, he wondered if this was his karma for the heartbreak on her face he remembered so clearly.

Archie wondered if Jughead had been in love with Betty the whole time. If he loved her. If she loved him. If they were just fucking and not involved beyond the physical.

He’d find out less than a week later when he was running early to meet Betty at Pop’s. Seeing the flash of a blonde ponytail as she headed around the back of the diner had him too curious not to follow.

Out of sight, he peered around the corner just in time to watch Jughead push her up against the building, kissing her with his hands possessively cradling her face. He could see they way they were almost breathing each other in, holding onto one another before they pulled back, staring at one another.

He misses her, he told her. Every hour of every day, he misses her. That it’s only a little less than a year before they can get out of Riverdale. That he loves her. He loves her so much it’s the only thing keeping him functioning at times.

Betty sniffed and wrapped her arms around him, shoving her head against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, a murmured whisper of how much she loved him too made Archie feel more of an intruder than he did the night he caught them having sex.

Backing away silently, he made his way into Pop’s, waiting for Betty in their booth, pretending to read over the menu they’d all had memorized before middle school. Lost in thought he almost missed Betty coming in, the tight smile she’d plastered on her face making him sad for all three of them.

For Jughead and the friendship they lost and the girl he loved, stuck on the “good” side of town when all they wanted to do was be together.

For Betty and the fight she was fighting. To keep her happiness, even if it was a secret that was hurting them both.

For himself, for the girl he didn’t know he loved until it was too late and even then, he’s not sure he could ever love her the way he now knows Jughead loves her. And even if he could, he's not sure he'd ever deserve the chance. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a couple of tumblr prompts! 
> 
> Bughead, water, fake dating, summer, smutty things.
> 
> Listen, I tried, okay, hah. Also, please excuse my bad editing, I don't like to bother Maria for less than 3500 words or more. 
> 
> Y'all are the best!
> 
> (Also, a footnote on my heart goes to SunlitGarden for answering my need for synonyms)

“Why are we doing this again?” Jughead asks, exhaling heavily. 

“Because,” Betty answers, extending her hand to him, “Archie asked us to.” 

“And that’s reason enough?” 

“It should be, I think he’d do it for us, don’t you?” 

Jughead shrugs. “I don’t see how he needs to but if you insist.” 

Betty wiggles her fingers at him with a smile. “I do.” 

He takes her hand and they walk out from behind the trees and down to the river to meet Archie and Veronica. Why he’d agreed to pretend to date Betty to convince new in town Veronica Lodge to a summer picnic with swimming as a double date he’d never know. 

That’s a lie. 

He knows. 

If pretending to date Betty gets him free access to touch even her pinky finger he’s going to accept his seat in hell for his perverse enjoyment of it with the proper enthusiasm. And maybe take a little longer shower that night. 

It’s hard to focus when her fingers are wrapped through his and she’s leading him down the river in a pale pink bathing suit, bows sitting on her hips, tempting him with each sway of her hips, almost begging for him to untie them. The urge to bury his teeth softly in the flesh there overcomes him and he ends up walking directly into her back when she comes to a stop. 

Looking over her shoulder, his eyes widen as he takes in the scene Betty’s already watching. 

“Is she-” 

Jughead stifles a laugh. “Feeding him strawberries one by one? Yes.” 

Betty shudders and tightens her grip on his hand. “You don’t think they’re baby talking, do you?” 

“God, I hope not.” Jughead walks in front of her and tugs gently on her hand. “Let’s go get some food before they kill even my appetite.” 

He clears his throat as they come up on Veronica and Archie, falling onto the blanket, pulling Betty down next to him. 

“So, Arch,” he starts, gesturing to Veronica and her strawberries, “I didn’t know you liked strawberries.” 

“Of course I do!” Archie defends, glaring at him. “They’re awesome.” 

Jughead can see Betty biting on her lip from the corner of his eye, trying not to laugh. They’re both remembering the time Betty had a strawberry cake at her birthday party and Archie had complained for days afterward about good cake being ruined by the terrible, no good, very bad, horrible strawberry. 

He and Betty watch Archie eat another strawberry, exchanging amused glances when they both catch his barely there wince. 

“Sandwich?” Betty asks, reaching for the picnic basket and he nods at her. 

“Thanks,” Jughead tells her, taking the sandwich in hand, noticing it’s his favorite. “I love this kind.” 

“I know,” she says, unwrapping her own sandwich before taking a bite. 

“They’re so cute, Archiekins,” Veronica exclaims. “When’d you start dating?” 

“Last year-” “A few months ago-” they say simultaneously, looking at each other with a wince, then at Archie apologetically. 

Veronica eyes them suspiciously. “You don’t know?” 

Betty clears her throat and squeezes Jughead’s hand in hers. “We kept it secret for a while.” 

“Why?” 

Jughead leans into Betty, still eating his sandwich. “You know, in case it didn’t work out, it wouldn’t make our friends uncomfortable-” 

“You mean Archie,” Betty playfully interrupts, bumping her shoulder with his. 

Archie laughs nervously, looking back and forth between them and Veronica before absentmindedly picking up a strawberry and sticking it in his mouth, coughing when he realizes what he’s done to himself. 

Veronica, patting him on the back, coos over him for a moment before asking, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. We should swim-”

“I’m still eating!” Jughead cuts in, mouth full. 

He ignores Veronica’s look of disgust and focuses on Betty as she tries to hide her amusement at his disgruntled tone. 

“Fine,” Archie says, standing and taking Veronica’s hand, “we’ll go swimming alone then.” 

“He says that like that wasn’t his goal,” Betty whispers before taking another bite of her sandwich. 

Jughead lifts a shoulder in disinterest, focused on his food and trying to ignore the warmth of Betty’s body as she leaned into him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to wait a while after eating to go swimming?” he asks, trying to put off the torture of having to swim around with a wet Betty while she pretends to be his girlfriend. 

“I think that’s a myth,” she tells him, balling up her sandwich wrap and tossing it in the basket. “Or that’s what Polly told me but she might have been just trying to rebel against our mom.” 

“Always a good idea.” 

Betty rolls her eyes at him but stays smiling. “You wanna swim now or what?” 

 

* * *

 

Finding himself in the water with a girl wrapped around him is somewhere he never expected to be that summer. 

The fact that it’s the girl he wanted to be wrapped around him is a story for another time. Along with the fact that he might need to get his back checked out after all of this since he’d been spending the entire time trying to bend his spine backwards to keep her from feeling that not even the cold water from the quarry was enough to keep his inappropriate erections in check. 

He is having fun though, even if the water was a little cold and the company of Archie and Veronica keeps reminding him that he and Betty aren’t really together. Or alone. 

It’s easy to forget when they’re off floating by themselves and her breasts are so close to his face that his biggest concern is forgetting himself and burying his face between them. 

“Hey!” Betty exclaims, knocking him out of his thoughts, making him scramble to keep hold of her. 

“What?” he asks, praying she’s not about to rip into him for staring at her chest for the last thirty seconds solid. 

“Where’s Veronica and Archie?” 

“What?” he repeats, turning around in a circle to look for them. 

They’re nowhere to be seen, not in the water, not on the picnic blanket, not in Archie’s beat up old car. 

“Where’d they go?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers, spinning around again, her legs tightening around his waist. “There’s no monster legends about this place is there?” 

Betty giggles at the worry in his voice. “No, of course not. There might be leeches, though.” Her arms curl further around his neck as she cranes her body up to look over his head, almost choking him with her breasts. 

“Betty,” he mumbles against her skin, trying to breathe but wishing he didn’t need to, “I can’t breathe-” 

“Oh!” Betty exclaims, leaning further into him, pushing him back a step, “I see something.” 

“I don’t,” he says, trying to keep his balance and take a breath at the same time. 

Finally realizing what she’s doing, Betty leans back. “I’m sorry, Jug, I didn’t mean to attack you.” 

“It’s fine,” he starts, turning around again to see where she’d been pointing, “now what did you see?” 

“Do you see the smoke?” 

Squinting, he sees the swirls of smoke drifting into the air. “Yeah.” 

“I think Archie started a fire for Veronica, she was talking about being cold.” 

Jughead almost groans at how obvious that ploy is. “Sure she was.” 

He does two things almost at once, he steps on a rock at the bottom, making him slip back and over-correct his stance. Betty squeals and pulls herself tighter to him and his hands grip under her thighs, the water making the both of them slippery as they grip and hand onto each other, as if her falling into the water she’s already in would be some sort of devastating accident. 

It’s a second too late to undo what he’s done when he feels Betty’s breath catch, the sound of it sliding over him and sending shivers up his spine. 

“Oh my god, oh fuck, Betty, I’m so sorry,” he starts to babble, trying to ignore the fact that in his effort to keep hold of her leg, his hand hand slipped and his fingers had slid right under the fabric between her legs. 

He can feel she’s cold on the outside but so, so hot under his touch. Swallowing heavy, he slowly starts to pull his hand away but Betty stops him, her hand flying down to his wrist. 

“Don’t,” she murmurs. 

She’s staring at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, her breath caressing his cheek as she pants. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, fingers still. He wants to, god does he want to but he wants to know if this is something she wants from him. If she does, he’ll gladly do it until his fingers fall off. 

Betty nods and he slips his fingers further against her, making her thighs twitch. Suddenly glad for the foray into all things erotic when puberty had really started to hit, he moves the pads of fingers up, aiming for her clit. She jumps and moans a little when he touches her and he rests his forehead against her collarbone as he concentrates his attention in little circles, trying to see what she likes by her reactions. 

When she whimpers his name in his ear, he can’t help looking up at her, catching her eyes before she gazes down at his lips. His other hand comes off of her lower back, trailing up her spine until he’s gripping the back of her neck and pulling her down to meet his lips in a soft kiss. Her hips are starting to move back and forth against him and the soft touch of her tongue on his lips has him opening for her, his tongue meeting hers in a soft glide as he groans quietly into her mouth, 

Her heavy breathing against him has him determined to make this good for her, inexperienced or not. Betty’s hand moves between them and he’s about to promise he can do better when she slips her hand under the waistband of his swim trunks, taking hold of him, the heat of her hand warming him up immediately. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispers, curling her fingers around him and moving up and down. 

“Me either,” he confesses, his own efforts doubling when he eyes start to fall closed. “Is this okay?” 

“So good,” she says, her head falling onto his shoulder as she works him under the water. “I’m close.” 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, the words sending him closer to his own edge, “me too.” 

He kisses her again to stop the loud moan that had started to fall from her mouth when her legs started shaking and he ends up spilling into her hand when he realizes he’s just made his dream girl come while she clings to him in a bathing suit. He’s almost certain he’s had at least five wet dreams of this exact scenario since he was fourteen. 

“That was amazing,” she tells him and he feels the loss of her hand, trying to keep his face straight so she doesn’t see the pathetic sense of need for her to never stop touching him. 

“It was,” he says, wrapping his arms around her tighter. “What does it mean?” 

“Mean?” 

Jughead swallows his nerves and probable disappointment. “Yeah, like, was it a one time thing or uh, I mean, are you saying you want to do it again? Maybe use my body for experiments? Or you know, if you wanted to do that again in a long term committed relationship where you never, ever let another guy do that to you so I don’t go insane-” 

Betty’s laughter interrupts him. “I might be persuaded to be talked into the last option.” 

“Is that right?” 

Betty kisses him again. “Yeah.” 

Trying to keep what he thinks is probably delirious happiness off of his face, he asks, “What about Archie? Do we tell him?” 

The mischievous look on her face almost makes lose himself in a fit of laughter. “No. Not even a little bit. It’ll be more fun that way.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos bring me to life, friends, truly. Besos!
> 
> You can come [tumble](https://thetaoofbetty.tumblr.com/) with me if you want.


End file.
